Secret Santa
by sansone
Summary: Abby organizes a Secret Santa exchange for #TeamGibbs right before Christmas. Title subject to change. Kibbs later on.
1. Get Pumped

**Disclaimer: **I don't own these characters. Sadly, they belong to some other people.  
**AN:** Happy holidays, everyone! I'll try to have the whole story up by the 26th. There should be ~4 more chapters. Enjoy!

* * *

"What do you have for me, Abs?" Gibbs' impatient tone only makes Abby linger a tad bit longer at the microscope stand as she assembles a slide for analysis.

"You won't believe it, Gibbs, it turns out – " she finally looks up from the microscope, once the silence in the room turns scary and there is no 'thump-slush' of a CafPow cup placed in front of her. "Wow. Hi guys! So good to see you all," Abby's grin spreads at the sight of the other three agents, who have followed Gibbs into the lab.

"You insisted we came, Abby," Tony reminds her, picking up a little glass vial from a shelf to examine. Putting it down once he reads the label, too grossed out to even ask.

"I know! That's why I'm excited. The _reason _you are all here."

"Abby? You said you got something for me?" _There, _he is now shielding the beverage from view, hiding it behind his back.

"Of course I do, boss-man! I was able to extract DNA from the hair sample Tony found at the scene. We were so lucky, Gibbs! Extracting DNA from hair is a pain, like no other. Worse than getting your third molars taken out. I'm sorry for the visual, Kate… It's just so – "

"Abby?"

"Gibbs?" Abby plays along, before she realizes what he means by that. Then, she pulls her act together, "Oh, yeah, as I was saying, that hair Tony found – it does not belong to our petty officer."

"Could it be the killer's?"

"I like your thinking, McGee. I ran his DNA in several databases, no luck yet. I'll let you know if anything pops."

"Good work, Abs," Gibbs cracks a half-smile, at last, and Abby slurps her victory.

"What is it you wanted to tell us, Abby?" Kate asks, curiosity taking over. Curiosity that further rises after Abby brandishes a golden fedora for all of them to see.

"You're joining the cast of _Chicago?_" Tony's expression of confusion is reflected pretty much on everyone's faces. Except for Gibbs, who looks unfazed.

"Nope. Go ahead, take a slip of paper and don't show it to anyone."

With this, Abby goes around the room until all of them have taken out a tiny piece of folded paper.

"Is this what I think it is, Abs? A Secret Santa – _thing_?"

"You're right, Kate! I'm so excited! So the rules are, you don't reveal yourself before the exchange, but you can leave three clues to your recipient before Christmas and then –"

"Abby?"

"Gibbs! Don't be a Secret Santa pooper! Or you know, that Scrooge guy. Because I'm coming for you, boss-man. I'll be the ghost of Christmas present for you; don't think that I'm kidding. Well, maybe I am, but that's not the point. Please, Gibbs –"

"I was just going to ask, are we exchanging gifts at dinner on Thursday?"

"Oh. Yeah. Wait! Ducky – Gibbs, could you give him this? Let me first check he doesn't get his own name," Abby giggles, like a little kid, unfolding the last piece of paper, much to Tony's dismay.

"Abby, you didn't," he gasps. "You're not supposed to do that."

"I know, Tony," she nods vigorously, but then she gives a small shrug. "It had to be done. But it's all good. Gibbs, go get our lovely ME even more pumped about his dinner extravaganza."

"Sure thing, Abs," Gibbs kisses her cheek, before leaving without waiting for anyone else.

"Why is he _okay_ with this?" Tony asks, full of pure wonder, the question addressed to no one in particular.

"Maybe he got you, Tony," Kate suggests, biting her lip not to laugh. "I'm sure he's eager to give you free entrance to a Marine boot camp."

Tony shudders. "Not funny, Kate."


	2. The First Clue

At first, Kate was stoked to be going on a stakeout with Gibbs, _mostly_ because it meant an escape from paperwork. Abby had luckily found a match for the unsub's DNA on one of the databases: Lieutenant John Brooks, whom they had already talked to during the initial stages of the investigation. Gibbs' face had fallenupon learning the news. Corruption, high in the hierarchy, troubled him like nothing else.

The Dodge Intrepid is now parked in front of Brooks' apartment building. They've been here for the past three hours, sitting in comfortable silence, but there's been no sign of the suspect.

"Could you turn up the heat, Gibbs?" Kate tugs at her cuffs, pulling the sleeves of her coat even further down.

"I don't think it's working, Kate."

"Oh, I'm sure he'll come out soon, Gibbs, we've been here so long. The heat?"

"That's what I meant, Kate. The heater's not working," Gibbs reasons, the corners of his mouth lifting into a smile, which sadly, does not warm Kate's shivering form.

She sighs. "Okay. Now I'm thinking we should have gotten a warrant."

"Not possible," he shakes his head. "We don't have enough evidence and with his standing – we need more than a single strand of hair. He could have walked the scene before the murder, it's a Navy base."

"I know," she whispers, crossing her arms over her chest as a way of conserving heat.

All of a sudden, Gibbs takes off his jacket and hands it to Kate. "There, this should help."

_What the hell. _ She tries to speak up, words of protest on the tip of her tongue, – _the man is only wearing a shirt now! _– but Gibbs cuts her off.

"Take it, agent."

Not given the chance to object, Kate covers herself. Who knew Gibbs' jacket would make the perfect blanket? "Thanks," she murmurs. "But you really didn't have to, Gibbs."

"I know," he teases. "Should have taken DiNozzo with me. Good character builder, the cold."

Kate raises an eyebrow, amused, "Oh yeah? Am I such bad company, Gibbs?"

"Not at all, Kate," he looks at her and it's almost as if he took offense in the remark, he's _that _serious, all of a sudden. "I'm glad you're with me," he admits, taking a big sip of his third coffee, for the stakeout.

_This holiday season, get ready to hear the unexpected (then try not to make a joke about it)._

"Any leads on who your Secret Santa is?" Kate swiftly changes the topic, before the silence she indulges in – still uncertain if she's heard him well – turns awkward.

"Pretty sure it's Abby. I got a keychain this afternoon – of Bert. The farting hippo."

"Oh yeah, she would," Kate agrees, trying to keep a straight face. "No word from mine yet, but I guess, we've all been pretty busy –" Kate trails off when she sees Gibbs' posture stiffen. She follows his gaze to see the Lieutenant standing by the sidewalk. Waiting.

At that moment, a royal blue Cadillac pulls up in front of Brooks.

"Can you see the plates, Kate?"

She doesn't need to lean forward to get a better look. _The man really needs glasses. _"F1734E. Wait, Gibbs – wasn't that the car the witness saw rush away from the scene, before they even found the body?"

She gets no answer. Without warning, Gibbs starts the car, ready to swing into high gear. _Damn, _she needs to hold on tight now.

* * *

Back in the bullpen, Tony starts scribbling the moment Kate walks in, the procrastinator that he is. Kate is sure he's been playing 'hit-McGee-with-a-paper-ball' for a good amount of time, judging by the trash, surrounding Tim.

"DiNozzo!"

"Yes, boss!" Tony quickly springs up to his feet, but after seeing Kate – _and only Kate – _standing in front of him, he scowls. "Nice one, Kate."

"What, Tony? You looking for Gibbs?"

"As a matter of fact, I am," he grins, then motions to the top of his desk, "I am done for tonight. Just wanted to say, uh, good night. To Gibbs,"

"Sure thing."

"So how did the stakeout go?"

"Pretty good. Brooks is now in interrogation with Gibbs, but the other guy –"

"The other guy?" Tony waves a gracious goodbye to McGee on his way out, but the latter is dozing off in front of the computer. "Poor Probie. Needs more caffeine."

"I guess you're right," Kate nods, looking at McGee's slumped form; by the sound of it, he's _actually _sleeping. And snoring, blissfully. "Anyway. Gibbs and I trailed Brooks, who was in the Cadillac – the car from the report? Then, the guy who was with him – it was a close call, but he managed to escape. Pretty sure Gibbs is beating himself up right now."

"—you mean he's beating Brooks up?"

"That too. In any case, he wants me to draw a sketch of our new suspect now."

"Poor thing, Katie," Tony gives her a sympathetic smile and a pat on the shoulder. "But you can do it, gurrrl. _Don't break it, gurrrl,_" he starts to rap before he exits the bullpen with some sort of a hip-hop dance move.

Kate doesn't even want to know.

It's going to be a long, long night, she thinks, sitting down at her desk. The sketch, dealing with Gibbs, figuring out what to get Tim for the Secret Santa exchange.

"Just five more minutes, mom," McGee slurs in his sleep and Kate can't help but laugh.

_Oh! Caffeine, duh. _Just as she is about to get up and go to the coffee place that is open late – buy Tim a nice latte – something on her desk catches her attention.

A tiny silver heart lies on top of her sketchpad, next to a crumpled ball of paper.

* * *

**AN: **Thanks for the follows/feedback! I'm glad you're enjoying the story so far :)


	3. The Second Clue

"Do you think Tony has a crush on me?"

Abby's eyes widen as she takes a big slurp from her first CafPow for the day. Neither one of them suspected they'd be in the office at 0530 on Christmas Eve, but anything is possible when you draw the short straw and your team ends up being the one on duty during the holidays. Kate had managed to sketch the suspect the night before and his image now flickers on Abby's computer, anticipating a positive match.

"Our Tony? I'll-quote-you-the-Godfather-word-for-word-Tony?"

"Yes, DiNozzo," Kate sighs, a little impatient; _damn clue, _messing with her head.

Abby grins, twirling a pigtail around her finger, "Well, I definitely think he likes you, Kate. But it's like me and Tim –" Abby wavers, having realized that's probably not the best example. "Or you know, maybe not. My point is, I don't think he has a crush on you. Wait, why'd you ask?"

"It's silly," Kate shakes her head, but fumbles through her pockets for the little charm, then opens up her palm to show it to Abby. "It was on my desk last night."

"Oh," Abby's smile turns into a full blown grin. "It's really pretty, Kate," she whispers, examining the tiny heart up close.

"Yeah –"

"I still don't know why you think it was Tony," Abby returns the charm, a minor glint in her eye.

"What are the other options, Abs? It could be McGee, I guess."

"It's not Timmy," Abby shakes her head, biting her lip.

"Abby?"

"Give me a sec," Abby struts off to the other end of the room, returning with a triumphant smile and a wrinkled piece of paper in her hands.

"He's my Secret Santa. I got this yesterday," Abby gives Kate the page. "See, it's written on a typewriter."  
_  
CafPow and coffins and black velvet ribbons  
Microscopes, ASL, bowling with nuns  
Major Mass Spec much happiness brings.  
These are a few of my favorite things._

Kate giggles, "We got ourselves a poet." _And a fan of The Sound of Music._

"He's sweet," Abby folds the piece of paper carefully and tucks it into the pocket of her lab coat. "Back to you, Kate. I think you're forgetting someone."

"Am I?"

"Yep. How about Gibbs?"

"No," she shakes her head, even though the thought has crossed her mind.

"You sure?"

"Not possible. We were on a stakeout yesterday and I only got the clue when we came back. He was down in – "

"But he could have found a way! Our silver haired boss-man giving you his silver heart –"

"—I wish," the moment she whispers the words – _what happened to filtering? – _Kate covers her mouth, the color draining from her face. _Did she really say that?_ It's way too early, that's all. She looks up at Abby, who can hardly contain her excitement.

"Kate!" she hops off the counter and nudges her friend's shoulder. "Are you saying that –"

"I'm not saying anything, Abby," Kate objects, but she can feel her cheeks flushing, clearly spelling it out for Abby – _lies and fallacies. _

"But Kate, that is so awesome that you –" Abby starts jumping excitedly in place, but the moment she stops, Kate knows something's wrong. "Oh hi, Gibbs."

"What'd you do, Kate?" Gibbs grumbles, walking up to them, empty handed this time around.

"Uh, I drew the sketch you asked me to do, Gibbs," Kate mumbles, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, a bit nervous. She really doesn't want to know how long he's been standing there. Or actually, she wants to know, very much –

Gibbs leans toward Kate, looking over her shoulder at the sketch she's holding in her hands. It's not long before he is done examining the drawing. "Good girl," he murmurs, then glances up at Abby. "Any matches?"

"We're running facial recognition now. Wait! We got it, Gibbs!" Full of excitement – and gratitude – Abby gives Gibbs a hug, "So glad you came."

Gibbs smirks, "Ya think? What do we have?"

"Diego Hérnandez, 34, Colombian, arrested for smuggling drugs into the country."

"You got an address?"

"Absolutely!"

In a few seconds, Gibbs is rushing out of the lab, "You coming Kate?"

With no time to spare, Kate follows him, but not before she has raised her eyebrows in question and Abby has 'zipped' her lips.

"Secret's safe with me, friend."

* * *

"_Deck the hall with boughs of holly fa la la la la la la la la_" Ducky's baritone echoes down the autopsy room and greets Gibbs at the entrance. The ME is too focused on arranging his instruments on a tray to notice that Gibbs is, in fact, standing by his side now.

"Duck?" he calls, placing a hand on the doctor's shoulder.

"Good to see you, Jethro," Ducky turns around with a smile, the same old tune on his lips. "Come on now, _'tis the season to be jolly, fa la la la la la la la_," he motions with his hands to mark any rise or fall in the melody.

"Better not, Duck," Gibbs grins, looking around the autopsy room, which has undergone a proper makeover: there are a few garlands on the walls and a modestly decorated Christmas tree in the corner.

"_Don we now our gay apparel –" _Ducky continues, still hoping to get Gibbs to sing, but when he doesn't, the song dies down. " Well if you shan't, my dear Jethro – "

"_Fa la la la la la la la la,_ " Gibbs finishes loudly, which doesn't fail to make Ducky smile.

"Well done!" the ME applauds, bowing his head in admiration. Then again, there's a reason why they're at work on Christmas Eve. "Jethro, what happened with the lad, the one Abigail identified this morning?"

"Turns out, he's not involved, Duck," Gibbs sighs, running a hand through his hair. "Still, we charged him with drug trafficking, the bastard – But we're back to square one."

"Anything I can do?"

"Could you go over the autopsy results for Petty Officer Walters again? I have a feeling, there's something we're missing."

"Well if the famous Leroy Jethro gut demands my expertise, I shall examine the body before I go home tonight. "

"Thanks, Duck."

Gibbs is just about to head out, when Ducky calls out to him, "Jethro, has she figured it out yet?"

(Naturally, when Abby had said not to reveal themselves, she'd meant not to tell the recipient, _right?_)

"I don't think so, Duck," Gibbs smirks. "Thanks for leaving the clue for me last night."

"Not a problem, Jethro. So when are you telling her?"

"On Thursday," Gibbs deadpans, fully aware he is not answering Ducky's _actual _question.

"Gibbs, you know what I meant – are you going to tell her? It's been two years for crying out loud!"

If one didn't know better, one might say Gibbs was slightly flushed at this moment. _But that's nonsense!_

"—so a couple of days wouldn't hurt, would they?"

Not giving Ducky a chance to reply – and judging by his stunned expression, he is at a loss for words right now – Gibbs leaves the autopsy room and goes back to an empty bullpen.

He lingers at Kate's desk, tempted to open her sketchpad, but he doesn't. Instead, he leaves another charm, a silver cross, on top of it.

* * *

**AN: **Merry Christmas, everyone! Thanks for the feedback!


	4. Semper Fidelis

"What's new, Kitty-Cat?" Tony looks up from the case file he's been referencing to write his report.

Working on Christmas day had paid off and they had been able to wrap up the case. _Of course_, had it not been for Ducky's findings that led them to the Lieutenant, they would most likely be spending another night at the office. After getting a warrant for Brooks' apartment, they had found the murder weapon. With Brooks consulting his lawyer now, there is nothing left to do but paperwork.

When she doesn't snap at him – even though she has every reason to – Tony gets quite worried, so he tries again. "Katie?" he taps his fingers on his desk, _drum roll, everyone, _anticipating her reaction.

_Huh. _She is clearly _there, _but she is not paying any attention to him, _none _whatsoever! _Hinky._

He tiptoes to her desk, where he is shocked to see that she is not doing work. In fact, Kate seems to be looking at something, which is not in Tony's line of sight, and he be damned, if he doesn't find what it is.

"Kate!" he snaps his fingers right before her eyes, then steps back, because even Tony has an ounce of common sense.

"Hmm?" Kate finally turns to look at him, slightly dazed, as if she's just woken up from a nap.

_Maybe she was sleeping. _"Well you've been awfully quiet," Tony remarks, leaning against the edge of her desk.

"Yeah – " she sighs, picking up a folder. "I've been busy."

"I can see that," he casts a glance at the blank page she has open on her computer. Then he notices something, right by the keyboard. "Been a nice girl, Kate? Is that what you were looking at instead of working?"

"I was not –" Kate starts, but she's not fooling anyone. "So what if I was –" she shrugs one shoulder, eyes glued to the charms.

Without asking – _and it's a gamble, _she could have easily slapped his hand across – Tony reaches out and takes the silver heart. "Shiny – who gave it to you?" he asks, wiggling his eyebrows.

"—I was hoping you would tell me," Kate retorts, leaning back in her seat – ready to interrogate.

"How should I know?" Tony looks bemused, before he picks up on the implication. "Oh. If you think I left you the clues, well, sorry, Kate. Wasn't me," he drops the charm on top of a document.

"Come on, Tony – you can tell me. What difference does it make? Tomorrow's the exchange –"

He shrugs, "Already told you, Kate. Wasn't me. In fact, I have to go pick up a new bowtie for Ducky –"  
With that Tony pushes himself off the edge of the desk and goes back to his place.

There is something about leaving Kate alone in the bullpen that doesn't sit right. She is not her usual self and it's a challenge for Tony; he needs to get her back. He needs to get her out of this moody state, because – _careful, it's a secret!_ – he misses her scolding him.

"Come on, Kate," he takes her coat off the hanger. "Off we go now!" he drops the coat on her desk and pulls her ponytail.

"DiNozzo!"

_There we go. _

* * *

In an hour, Kate returns to the bullpen, alone. Tony snuck downstairs to leave his clue, hopefully without being seen.

She is not by her desk yet, but she already knows that something's different. It doesn't take long for her to put the pieces together, or rather to find the odd one out. _The coffee cup, _which is merely a blur from a distance, but a definite, _tangible _clue once she sits at her desk, taking the cup from the corner.

_But is that it? The last clue? Well, it's not very helpful. _For all she knows, Ducky's been leaving her the charms and has now decided to bring her coffee. Frustrated, Kate is all in for a sip, but she stops mid-motion, because – _fuck. _Two words, _two damn words_ stare right back at her, scribbled with a black marker on top of the lid.

_Semper Fi._

She sets the cup down and pushes it behind the computer. Out of sight, out of mind. _Who is she kidding? _Kate takes the cup and sets it in front of her. There is no doubt anymore.

Her Secret Santa is Gibbs.

"You gonna drink that?"

Kate bites her lip, because she knows that voice, and _God, _she needs more time to think this over. To hypothesize and rack her brain for answers and you know, profile him. What is she even thinking. _Profiling Gibbs? Come on, Kate. _

"You know I take it with milk and sweetener, right? I don't want to –"

"—right. I know, Katie," he murmurs. Gibbs is typing something, but he sneaks a glance her way nonetheless.

_Deep breath in. _When Tony called her Katie this morning – _she heard, alright! – _she wanted to slap him. When Gibbs calls her Katie – she wants to kiss him.

_Okay_, she can totally do this. No need to talk to Gibbs. Perhaps tomorrow, but not now. _See, _she is getting started on her report.

"Let's go home."

"Excuse me?" Kate almost chokes on her coffee.

_Damn him, _and the way his eyes crinkle at the edges when he smiles. "It's Christmas, Kate. Go home. The report can wait," he says at last and to punctuate his words, Gibbs gets up and starts to gather his things.

_Who are you and what did you do to my boss?_

Too caught up in her own thoughts, Kate doesn't notice that Gibbs is standing by her side, not until he has wrapped his fingers around her upper arm.

"I mean it, Kate," he squeezes her shoulder and steps back, waiting. "You don't want to be tired tomorrow, now do you?"

She might have been freaking out – _just a little – _but his question, _his smirk_ tip the scale. "You're right, Gibbs – give me a second, okay?"

When she is done putting files away, she turns around to get her coat but to her surprise, Gibbs already has it. He helps her put it on and she murmurs a _thank you._

In the elevator, they don't talk. Kate looks sideways at Gibbs, who is not making it any easier for her to strike a conversation. _At least some things stay the same. _But in the end, she gives it a shot, reaching to touch his shoulder, _to get his attention. What did you think?_

"Merry Christmas, Gibbs,"

"Merry Christmas, Kate," he returns the sentiment, and then some.

When the elevator doors open, and they part, the tips of her fingers still go back to where he kissed her cheek.

They may have solved the case, but Kate, _Kate _is back to square one: absolutely clueless about Gibbs.

* * *

**AN: One chapter to go! **


	5. Anchor

**AN: **Thanks for reading, everyone! Feedback has been wonderful :)) Hope you enjoy the last chapter - I had a lot of fun writing it!

* * *

On Thursday, Kate is the first one to get to Ducky's house and she is in fact, quite early. Ringing the doorbell proves to be a challenge, when she's holding so many things: her bag, Tim's gift, a red Christmas plant for Ducky, which she already tried to drop a few times, _dessert._

"Caitlin, come on in, my dear," Ducky greets her and basically, pulls her into the house, giving her a side hug. He helps her with the bags and they place a beautifully crafted – a product of Kate's artistry in the kitchen – chocolate-raspberry layered cake in the fridge.

"And that's for you, Ducky," Kate hands him the plant, unsuspecting of the consequences: a lecture on the properties of _Euphorbia pulcherrima, _with some personal anecdotes on the side.

"— Eugenie thought it was rather imprudent, but I sent her sister in Egypt one of these poinsettia plants," the ME reminisces and Kate nods, following him into the dining room, where the table has already been set.

"It's lovely, Ducky," Kate whispers, in awe of the decoration. A set of Christmas lights are softly glowing in various colors, framing the windows like garlands. _Glass ornaments, candles, a Christmas tree in one corner. _But above all, _it feels like home_. "Where is your mom? I hope she doesn't mind we're all –"

"Nonsense, my dear. Mother just left for a fancy dinner party, to which I was not invited," Ducky says cheerfully. "But let me take your coat, Caitlin."

"Thanks, Ducky. And thanks for having us," Kate gives him her coat, crossing her arms over her chest. _God, it's been too long, _she thinks of her outfit, a dark green dress, which flares below the waist. "Anything I can help you with?"

"Well, if you insist, I could use your help with the salad. If Tony's lasagna does not turn out well –" Ducky grins, motioning toward the kitchen to show the way.

Kate chuckles, "I still think Gibbs is bringing Chinese, just in case."

"Oh yes, Jethro shall take care of us," Ducky sounds relieved, taking out the vegetables they need for the salad.

At the mention of Gibbs, Kate's thoughts drift back to the night before, to the kiss, to _always loyal _(she knows Latin, alright). She is tired of speaking in code, of metaphors, and maybes. But at the same time, _she has to admit, _she'll take that, _any day, _over the absolute lack of it.

"Penny for your thoughts? I can go higher, my dear – a dime, a quarter? You alright?" Ducky sniffles, chopping an onion.

Kate has to laugh, "It's nothing, Ducky. I was just thinking about, uh, the exchange."

Ducky smiles knowingly and Kate has to wonder, how much exactly does he know, "Have you figured it out yet, Caitlin?"

"I'm pretty sure it's Gibbs. But I guess I'll have to wait and see."

"You're right. I'll tell you one thing, my dear Caitlin. It's quite lucky that Gibbs got to be your Secret Santa because he's had that gift for you for–" right at the most intriguing part, Ducky falters. _Saved by the doorbell. _"How marvelous!" he heads for the door, excited to meet the other guests.

Kate almost cuts herself, grinding a carrot. Her mind is drifting to possible scenarios, explanations really why he would – _damn it. _The answer is clear; for the exact same reason she has a gift for him, a sketch she's had of him for the better part of the past two years.

* * *

"That was delicious, Tony. What's the restaurant?" Abby grins and pokes his side.

"Probie's kitchen. Need an address?" he smirks, taking a sip of his drink. "McGee's got some serious talent. Of course, with my help –"

"—yeah, right, Tony," Tim snorts. "I was pretty much on my own after you managed to –"

"Lalalala," Tony claps his hands over his ears.

"Well done, McGee," Gibbs voices to the side of Tim, who almost falls off his chair. _Was that a compliment? _

"Thanks, boss, I mean, uh, Gibbs," Tim mumbles and Gibbs' smile grows even wider.

He glances at Kate, a look that is meant to be brief per se, but lingers. She's been relatively quiet, except for the occasional witty comeback and a shared laugh with Abby, which shouldn't worry him, but it does.

"—did anyone say cake?" Tony asks, breaking that short-lived moment of silence.

"But of course, Anthony! Caitlin has made quite the masterpiece," Ducky nods vigorously. "In fact, would you like to get it, my dear? Because if anything were to happen, I would not forgive myself," he laughs. "Jethro here can help you, right?"

Naturally, Gibbs agrees to help and Kate is up on her feet, pretending not to see Abby's all-knowing smirk. _Off they go._

* * *

"You did that overnight?" Gibbs sounds impressed once he opens the fridge. The cake is towering over the other products in all its chocolate glory.

"Yep," Kate nods, even though he can't see her, _because he is obviously looking at the cake. _She needs to get it together. "Don't mess it up, okay?"

Without saying anything else, Gibbs carefully pulls the tray and secures it over two steady hands. "You were saying?" he teases once the cake is safely on the island counter.

She finally loosens up a bit. "Hey, who knows – you might drop it, then blame it on me –"

He shrugs, "It's my word against yours, Agent Todd."

"Don't pull rank on me, Gibbs," Kate shakes her head, laughing. _Damn, _this feels good. But they'd better be going. "You going to carry it or should I?"

"I say we talk first, Katie."

The moment he says that, her heart sinks. She can't help it, even if it's completely and utterly irrational.

"Okay, Gibbs. What do you got for me?" she tries to cover up the trembling of her voice by contrast: she leans against the counter, palms flat on its surface, a stance that reads, _totally cool with anything you throw at me. _

Okay_, _anything but _that. _Because when he takes a small, mint-colored box out of his side pocket, she is definitely caught off guard. _Tiny box. Mint green. White ribbon. _It's an endless game of associations.

"Merry Christmas, Kate," Gibbs' voice is soft, intimate, and of course, _she has to ruin everything. _

"—you're not proposing, are you?"

She is not prepared for his reaction, _no, not at all._ But it is as if he hasn't heard her comment at all.

"Open it."

And so she does. When she was getting the clues, she was unsure of how cohesive they were, how they fit together. Now everything has come into place. Inside the box, an elegant silver bracelet with a single charm – an anchor. Heart, cross, anchor. _Love, faith, hope. Semper Fi. _

They are in sync and they don't need words to communicate. She lifts her hand and he puts the bracelet on her wrist.

"I love it," she murmurs. It's a second, extended, before she looks up at him and he takes her hand, _all the encouragement she needs. _

He is a tall man and she is wearing flats. He is her boss. She is barely thirty and he's been married three times, _that she knows of. _Yet, it's that easy to step on her toes and kiss him, full on the lips, like she's kissing a stranger, _a product of an adrenaline rush, _or like she's kissing a lover, someone she greets at the airport for Christmas after they've been apart a long time – _a week at most. _It's not chaste and it's not poetic, because she still has to clasp her hands behind his neck to keep her balance (and his hand, _his hand on the small of her back, _that helps too). But she's kissing Gibbs, not a stranger, not a lover, _just Gibbs. _She is kissing coffee and Scotch – Ducky was out of bourbon – and she dares to hope to kiss chocolate, after they have desert. _Or is it too early to hope? _She is not nice, but he isn't either. He bites her lip, and she pulls back, _just to tease him, _but he leans in to steal another kiss, both hands on her lower back, _just to keep her close. _When they break apart – _and they do, at some point – _she is breathless and he doesn't shy away from her gaze. Their relationship, it's like reading in the dark: so much better to turn the light on.

"I guess I wanted to say thank you," she whispers, her breath on his lips, before she steals another kiss.

They need to talk; she needs to tell him that she loves how he holds her close, even if the team is in the other room. That she loves how the tips of his fingers trail paths down her back, because it calms her (and she should probably be freaking out right now). Instead, she holds him close, too.

"I have something for you as well, Gibbs."

"You do?"

"Mhmm. But I'm afraid I don't have it with me tonight. Would you care to have dinner tomorrow?"

"Are you asking me out on a date, Kate?"

She pulls back to meet his eye. "Are you saying yes?"

He kisses her again (she is losing the count). "You're on."

_"—when I asked for cake, I thought it was in the fridge. What are they doing there, baking?" _


End file.
